He stabbed the butt out in a potted plant behind us, then stood up and held his hand out to me. "Come on, lets find something better to drink than whatever that crap is." He nudged my full bottle with his toe, and I laughed. I'd barely taken one sip out of it, but I felt strangely dizzy.
Oh shit.
"Dallas? Was there weed in that cig?"
His grin was lazy. "Of course there was. You know I've been cutting my tobacco with weed for fucking years, Katie."
I ran a hand through my hair, laughing lightly. I did know that. I'd also forgotten. Whoops.
"It's just a light buzz," he said with a shrug, "nothing too serious."
"True," I agreed, leaning into his tall frame as he slung an arm over my shoulders. We rejoined the party, but lingered near the edge until a couple of vaguely familiar guys came over to us. They both wore the Wraiths bandannas; one had it tucked in his back pocket and the other had it tied around his wrist.
"Madison Kate." The smaller of the two leered at me. "The scapegoat herself. Ho-ly shit. D, man, you've been keeping secrets. Boss won't like that." He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth, and I cringed when I saw a gold tooth.
"Benjamin," I greeted the punk-ass kid, "nice to see you made something of yourself."
His smile dropped, and his glare turned menacing. "It's Viper, you mouthy bitch."
I wanted to make fun of him for playing at this tough gangster bullshit. But I wasn't dumb enough to think things hadn't changed in the four years since I'd seen this kid. Back then, he really had been just some scrawny brat playing tough... but you didn't survive long in the Wraiths or the Reapers if you couldn't walk the walk.
"Well, this was fun," I muttered with extreme sarcasm. "That's my cue to leave. Peace out." Ducking out from under Dallas's heavy arm, I jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.
A strong hand gripped my upper arm as I ducked into the hallway, yanking me into the formal dining room. The sliding double doors slammed shut behind us with a sharp bang, and I stifled my reaction. Fuck this prick for trying to scare me.
"What the hell are you thinking, Madison Kate?" Archer demanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl as he crowded my space. Instinctively, I backed up a couple of steps until my thighs hit the edge of the long, polished oak dining table. "Are you drunk? I specifically told you not to get drunk! Do I just talk for the sake of hearing my own voice?"
I shrugged and set my hands on the table behind me, affecting a supremely casual kind of stance. "Probably. I can't imagine you actually think I listen to your bullshit."
That vein in his temple pulsed, and I smiled. One of these days I'd possibly make his head explode out of sheer irritation.
"Madison Kate," he snapped, like my name was a curse word, "you're just standing around getting drunk with known gang members. Are you actually as airheaded as your father seems to think you are?"
I arched a brow and tilted my chin up defiantly. "I'm not drunk, Archer."
His eyes narrowed so hard I wondered if he could still see me. And just to get a stronger reaction out of him, I elaborated.
"I am, however, a little bit stoned."
Boom. There it went. Little bits of Archer's beautiful head splattered all around the room, painting it red and leaving nothing but a bloody stump where his neck used to be.
Metaphorically speaking, of course. That was what happened inside my imagination, and it was oh so satisfying. In reality, his eye just started to twitch.
"Princess," he breathed out. It wasn't a nice sound, though. It was more like the kind of noise a dragon might make when it'd just spotted a virgin damsel ripe for barbecuing and eating.
I grinned, all teeth. "Yes, sunshine?"
The nickname made me smile even wider because Archer D'Ath was the antithesis of sunshine in every possible way.
He was so close to me now. When had that happened? The rough fabric of his jeans brushed my bare legs, and he towered over me in a classic Archer-intimidation tactic. When was he going to learn that he didn't scare me? Not like that, anyway.
His cold blue eyes were locked with mine, and I tilted my chin back further, refusing to break first.
"Fuck," he cursed, then slammed his mouth against mine.
There was zero hesitation on my part as I kissed him back with equal intensity and hunger. Anger. Hate.
His huge hand tangled in my hair, pulling it as he tried to control our kiss, but I wasn't having a bar of that shit. Bracing my hands against his chest, I shoved him back a couple of steps, breaking our lips apart.
Archer looked dumbstruck. Confused as hell and mad.
Not that I gave him long to stand there and weigh the pros and cons of what was undoubtedly a terrible idea on both our parts. I launched myself at him, our lips meeting once more in a bruising clash of breath as I hoisted myself up his body, my legs wrapping around his waist as I took what I wanted from him.
A surge of satisfaction flared within me, gloating at having the upper hand, but it was short-lived. He spun us around and crushed me to the door, grinding his hard length against my core in a way that made me cry out in agonizing need.
No words passed between us as our teeth clashed and our tongues fought. His rough beard scratched my face like sandpaper, but fuck it. That was what concealer was made for, wasn't it? That and covering hickies.
His hands shoved the short skirt of my dress up, finding the micro thong I had on and tearing it off me like it was made of paper. His fingers found my wet heat, and I groaned with encouragement.
Bang!
The door at the far end of the dining room slammed open, spilling two giggling drunk girls in as they clutched red Solo cups of alcohol.
Archer growled a scary noise but quickly released me, and I tugged my dress back down over my bare ass. Talk about timing.
"Come on," he snapped, shooting the drunk girls a death glare and grabbing me by the hand.
I stumbled only a little bit as he yanked me out of the dining room again, and I wanted to state for the record that it was due to my thin stiletto heels and not because my knees were like jelly and my pussy throbbed with indignation.
I was also very big on lying to myself.
Archer hadn't let go of my hand, and I was pretty confident I knew where his head was at. He wanted an empty room, any room, just somewhere we could hate-fuck the hell out of each other so we could break the choking tension.
"Upstairs," I suggested. He paused, glancing over his shoulder at me with a curious frown, so I just shrugged and held his eyes confidently. "Guest rooms are upstairs."
He stared at me a second longer, then seemed to double his speed, practically dragging me through the party on his mission to reach the stairs.
Just as we reached the foyer, he stopped so abruptly I almost ran into the back of him.
"Uh, yo, Terminator," I joked, poking him in the back, "you just forget what we were about to do?"
He turned and gave me an almost amused look. Maybe I'd smoked more weed than I'd realized because that seemed totally out of character for Archer D'Ath.
"I doubt I could ever forget," he said, mostly under his breath, then gave a frustrated sigh. "But I just spotted someone who shouldn't be here. I need to find Kody and Steele to warn them."